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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22660195">one need not be a chamber</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/vvelna/pseuds/vvelna'>vvelna</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>happy phantoms [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Gen, Ghosts, POV Original Character, and no romance, there is no dan in this fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 15:16:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,080</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22660195</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/vvelna/pseuds/vvelna</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Anja accompanies Phyl on a quest to make a dubious purchase.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Phil Lester &amp; Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>happy phantoms [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1461439</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>one need not be a chamber</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is just a little prequel oneshot. i named anja after one of phil's real life friends, but the character here is not meant to be any sort of representation of her. </p>
<p>title courtesy of emily dickinson.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Phyl shows her the photo, Anja has no idea what she’s looking at. All she sees is some dingy metal cart in a dimly lit garage. Phyl watches her closely, then draws her phone away as Anja’s frown deepens.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You found a ‘ghost transport carrier’, on craigslist, and you want to pay some weirdo 400 pounds for it? You know people make up all kinds of shit about things on there? Cursed dolls and souls in beer bottles…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not some weirdo, it’s this guy named Madison Murch, and we’ve exchanged a lot of messages. I think this is genuine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think ‘pretty sure’ is worth 400 pounds. 400 pounds is a scam. It’s robbery. How are you going to pay rent next month?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll work something out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose you can always ask your parents for help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Phyl says sharply. “Sorry, But I…I don’t want them to know anything about this. You know how superstitious my mum is. And I wouldn’t know how to explain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anja and Phyl have been friends since they were six years old. She knows Phyl’s parents well, and it’s true—Mrs. Lester is superstitious. But she also knows that Phyl calls or texts her nearly every day and it can’t be easy to keep something like that from her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s also wondering when Phyl became so uncharacteristically loose with her money. </span>
  <em>
    <span>400 pounds.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just need you to drive me there, please, and help me get it back to my flat.” Phyl presses her palms together and powers up her big blue eyes. Anja is fully immune to that nonsense, but she appreciates the effort.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course she’s not going to let Phyl go alone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Madison Murch’s garage looks less like a gloomy dungeon in real life. The lighting is more than adequate, illuminating the dozens of tools he could easily murder Phyl with. He just doesn’t know how to take a proper photo. Anja scans the space, cataloging every detail. Her visual memory has always been excellent, and she wants to remember as much of this place as she can. Phyl isn’t paying attention to anything besides the big box she’s come to waste her money on. The box is a shiny, somewhat mottled silver metal. It sits in a metal frame with legs that lead to four heavy rubber wheels. It has a handle extending from one side, the size and shape of which makes Anja think of a pram.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Madison leans back against a counter made of planks of rough wood held up by brackets that run the entire length of one wall of the garage. He’s observing Phyl. He looks pleased. Smug. Like he’s already sure she’s going to buy. And he’s probably right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anja waits for Phyl to ask Madison some questions. Any question. This is just like when she tagged along with her to view flats. Anja wasn’t even looking for a place to live, but she ended up talking with the landlords more, grilling them for information and remembering all of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what’s it actually made of?” she asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Trade secret. By which I mean I have no idea because the guy who sold it to me said that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you selling it? How do we know it works?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It works,” says Phyl, running her hands along the lid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She touches it delicately, with reverence. It reminds Anja of the way she touched her van, Princess, when she went to buy her. Princess cost Anja more than 400 pounds, but she was a practical investment. When Phyl saw Princess for the first time, she laughed and accused Anja of buying her for the sole purpose of picking up girls.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Madison nods as he watches Phyl. “You can feel the residual energy, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If that’s what this is, then yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You haven’t answered my questions,” says Anja.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Madison forces a laugh. He doesn’t look angry, just a little uncomfortable. Anja catches Phyl glaring at her. Phyl has told her she can be too intense sometimes. She has often faulted Anja for “interrogating” people and treating them like “suspects.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I used it for a whole year and never had any problems. The only reason I’m giving it up is because of the size. I don’t have a car anymore and it’s such a pain to transport it. I can’t exactly take it on the tube. People would figure it was a bomb or something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She doesn’t have a car either,” says Anja, looking pointedly at Phyl. She’s still enamored with the box, opening the heavy lid and peering inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she lowers the lid, a latch clicks, and the weight of it keeps the box firmly closed. Apparently, this is enough to keep a ghost inside. Anja’s still trying to wrap her head around the idea of a ghost being contained within a physical, man-made object—especially one with such a dull look to it. If it was a hand-carved wooden box with engravings of ancient runes and precious gems embedded in the lid, the idea would be easier to swallow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So how are you catching your ghosts?” Madison asks. “Because you’ve got to be careful you know, when you’re transferring them in. Or are you using a lure? Depending on that you might be able to place something directly in the box, or, if you’re good at shepherding you could just aim it in.” He makes a motion like he’s lobbing an imaginary ball at the box.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anja has no idea what he’s talking about, and judging by Phyl’s blank gaze, she doesn’t either. Madison looks at them expectantly, his easy expression indicating that what he’s asked isn’t intended to be a difficult question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not quite sure what you mean? Phyl just—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re still playing around with different ideas,” Phyl interrupts. “Trying to find the best fit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Madison nods. “Do you both have the gift?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gift?” Phyl repeats nervously. She looks to Anja for help, but she shrugs, equally bewildered. “I thought we were paying in cash?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Madison laughs loudly, the sound filling the room. “No, no! I mean the gift of being able to perceive and understand ghosts the way normal people can’t. The gift that allows us to do the work we do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, no.” Anja points her thumb at Phyl. “Just her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phyl nods, rubbing her fingers together uneasily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you know any others like yourself?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, no. Other than you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” he says, drumming his fingers on the counter. Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll email you an invite for this great forum I’m on. You can learn a lot and talk to other people like you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, I think we agreed on 400, yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anja frowns. He clearly timed that so Phyl would be grateful for his kindness and thus amenable to paying top dollar. They didn’t agree on anything, that was just the asking price in the ad. Phyl is already rummaging around in her bag, eager to part with her money. Something about the box has bewitched her into losing all common sense.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Make it 300 and we have a deal,” says Anja, coolly. If she can’t talk Phyl out of this ridiculous purchase, she can at least soften the blow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Madison raises his eyebrows, but he doesn’t seem upset. “That’s pretty low. I paid 500 when I got it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But it’s endured a year of ware, so only dropping the price by a hundred is still high, wouldn’t you say?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Madison shakes his head and smiles. “375?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“325.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“350, final offer. I know lots of people in the market for this kind of thing; you two just happen to be geographically privileged.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phyl watches them, eyes darting back and forth. Anja can tell she just wants this to be over. But she needs to give it one last push.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“325, or we’ll find somebody else.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Madison laughs—more of giggle, really—and holds up his hands. “Okay, okay. 325 it is. I admire your passion.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phyl sighs and reaches back into her bag. She hands Madison a stack of bills, which he counts carefully, before folding the money in half and putting it in his pocket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anja watches silently, arms crossed, while they smile and shake hands. If anything goes wrong, she knows exactly how to get here, even without the address, and his face is burned in her mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t forget to check out the forum!” Madison says. He presses a piece of paper into Phyl’s hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks! It was nice to meet you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Anja echoes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Madison sports a wide crocodile grin, and waves as they leave the garage.  Or he might be smiling genuinely, happy to have made a buck and met another person with ghost powers.  Anja knows she’s biased. She just thinks that sometimes it’s better to be suspicious, and maybe you’ll be pleasantly proven wrong. They’ll have to devise a low stakes way to test the box.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They push it up the ramp and into the van. Anja secures it with bungee cords. As they pull out of the drive, gravel crunching beneath Princess’s wheels, Phyl begins to hum.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t believe you just paid 325 pounds for </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Anja doesn’t want to be a downer, but she can’t help herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would’ve paid 400 if I came alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you may have died. He could’ve waited till your back was turned, head in that stupid box, and killed you, then helped himself to the wad of cash in your bag.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come </span>
  <em>
    <span>on</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He was nice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think everyone is nice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t get it,” Phyl says softly, leaning closer to the window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t. Being able to hear the ghosts was one thing, but catching them? Anja watched Phyl consume a ghost. It was terrifying. She sat there, eyes rolling in her head, body convulsing, and then opened her mouth and spit that energy back up. It was invisible, of course, but Anja could see the change in Phyl as it moved through her. Phyl crumpled and lay still on the floor, and for a moment Anja thought she had died. At first she couldn’t breathe, and then she started crying, and Phyl woke up and asked her what was wrong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buying the box means Phyl intends to keep doing that. She’ll have a place to put them now, but that wasn’t the part that worried Anja. She misses the days when they were younger, and Phyl would try to describe the way ghosts sounded, and it all seemed so beautiful and remote, like a lovely story about a fantasy world somewhere far away. She had thought of the ghosts as being separate from this plane of existence, only their voices bleeding through.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All she knows is Phyl is running headfirst down an unlit path, and if she can’t make her stop or drag her back, then she’s going with her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s nowhere to park on Phyl’s street, and Anja has to drive around the block to find a space big enough. Phyl undoes her seatbelt as soon as they stop moving and climbs into the back of the van. Anja notices a folded piece of paper on the seat. She snatches it up and opens it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's the note Madison gave Phyl before they left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It was so nice to meet you! Good luck with everything! I’ll send you that invite tonight. Don’t hesitate to get in touch if you have any questions!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's signed </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maddie</span>
  </em>
  <span>, with a smiley face, and a phone number written below. Nobody needs to use that many exclamation points.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anja crushes the paper and shoves it in her pocket. She’s just trying to protect Phyl. She got an off vibe from Madison. That’s the truth, though deeper down, in a place she doesn’t want to dwell, she’s also afraid that she’s losing her best friend to a world of ghosts, peril, and overfriendly strangers who offer something she can’t. And to a </span>
  <em>
    <span>gift</span>
  </em>
  <span>—and a part of Phyl—that she’ll never be able to understand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She twists in her seat to speak to Phyl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You owe me for this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you have in mind?” She’s on her knees, staring at the damn box.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You feed me whatever I want to eat, and we watch </span>
  <em>
    <span>Buffy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I pick the episodes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phyl turns to her and she’s smiling so peacefully that Anja almost forgets her fears for a moment. Maybe everything will be alright.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Deal.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading!</p>
<p>
  <a href="https://velvetnautilus.tumblr.com/private/190765848215/tumblr_z70ycEZGacivA56mL"> reblog on tumblr </a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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